


Firewall

by molmcmahon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Gen, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Multi, Rhaegar Targaryen Lives, Still bitter over season 8, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: There is no end in sight for the Long Night and the dead overrun the living. Harry and Daenerys go back in time. Much further back in time.
Relationships: Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Harry Potter/Daenerys Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia)/Willas Tyrell
Comments: 18
Kudos: 273





	Firewall

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so all the time travel stories I've noticed in this fandom have the Starks go back in time. I have not noticed any fics where it's just Daenerys who goes back in time. And add my bitterness about the way the show ended... and voila, you get this.

A sudden burst of wind flew through the camp as horses whinnied and the sound of steel echoed throughout. Men looked up and around the aisles, wondering if they had just missed something only to see nothing. The banners of the various houses flapped in the gust, the three headed dragon of House Targaryen, the golden rose of House Tyrell, the sea horse of House Velaryon and various others of the crownlands. 

And then there were the sizable few from House Martell and Dorne, numbering roughly ten thousand, led by Prince Lewyn of Dorne and the kingsguard. Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jonothor also stood by the side of the prince, leading the other thousands of men. They had a force that outnumbered the rebels on the other side of the river but they could see that the men of the rebels were… more battle hardened than their forces were.

Night had fallen since they had made their camp, with the bright moon showing the way across the ford. The banners of House Stark, House Baratheon, House Arryn and House Tully flew over the rebel forces and Prince Rhaegar sighed as he stepped into his tent, his sword at his side.

Barristan and Jonothor flanked his tent, standing guard for the night before the fight in the morning. 

Rhaegar slowly stripped his armor off, laying it on the table piece by piece, placing his sword by his bed last. He relieved himself and finally walked over to the bed, hastily set up by one of his squires. He glanced around the tent, to the table and chairs set up across him, and then blinked, his eyes widening.

A man sat on one of the chairs across from the bed, his green eyes narrowed in thought. The man’s black hair was messy and untamed, the scar on his forehead bright red. There was a cloak folded up on the man’s lap, shimmery and worn looking but soft. His black hair was messy on his head and fell down to his shoulders though there was a braid that stood out to him. One bell was woven in through it, tinkling quietly whenever he moved. He was wearing a soft looking tunic and leggings that looked worn through.

“Pardon me,” Rhaegar offered, standing up as his heart thumped loudly in his chest. How did this man make it into his tent, past Ser Barristan and Jonothor? He reached over to grip his sword only for the man to shake his head. 

“I am not here to harm you, Rhaegar. I am only here to give you advice.”

“What kind of advice comes from a man who has seemingly walked into my tent unseen?” Rhaegar questioned, raising an eyebrow. The man’s voice was quiet and weary, with an accent that he had never heard before. It was not northern nor was it Dornish. “I am sorry but--”

“You need to win the battle tomorrow.”

“What do you know of the battle? I do not know you, do I? What house are you from?”

The man shook his head slowly, his green eyes steady and half flickering in the torch light. “I’m not from any house though you could say I am an ally of House Targaryen. I married a queen who was first of her name for one day and I would follow her to the ends of the earth.”

“I do not understand what you are saying. You wed a queen? Are you a king? You do not have the Valyrian hair,” Rhaegar spoke, hesitantly sitting back down on the bed. The man’s shoulders uncurled slightly, relaxing into the seat a little bit.

“I am not a prince or a lord and I have no interest in being one. But that is not the point here. You need to become the King of the Seven Kingdoms and I am here to do just that. You can just call me Harry.”

Rhaegar blinked and watched as the man… Harry stood up, beginning to pace in the small tent.

“I will not fight with you tomorrow but I can spell your armor and sword,” Harry remarked, his eyes narrowing. “And then I will give you the rest of the information I have.”

“What do you mean spell my armor? Are you… Who are you?”

“I’m just here to make sure you and your family do not get killed or exiled,” Harry offered, shrugging and sitting down again. “Robert’s weapon is a war hammer. That’s heavier and slower than a sword though Robert is in his prime still. He’s not gotten fat. May I have your sword?”

Rhaegar just stared at him and Harry stared back, his eyes softening.

“You really do… look like a king now,” Harry commented idly, trailing his fingers over the table that held scrolls and letters from his father. “Ser Barristan was right. He said you were the best man out of the three kings he has ever served, for the job. And… you do remind me of her. I don’t know you particularly well but I knew Ser Barristan. If he said you were a good man, I believe him. And my queen and wife loved you even though you never met.”

“I have to admit I am very confused,” Rhaegar finally said, narrowing his eyes and dropping his palms on his lap.

“There’s no need. I will only be with you for the next few days,” Harry offered quietly, before gesturing with one hand. 

Rhaegar’s eyes widened as he saw his armor float in from the stand it was on, to land on Harry’s lap. The breastplate, the pauldrons, and the golden mail he wore shined as it landed on the man’s lap and in front of him. 

“What do you mean I remind you of… her?”

Harry smiled faintly. “I told her at the end that I could go back and save you. She thought of her people first and foremost before she told me she didn’t want to be queen. She loved her family, her people more than anything. And she has your eyes.

You found Lyanna Stark because of the prophecy that spoke of the long night.”

“Go back? Save me? What… what are you saying? I don’t understand.”

“You die when you face Robert Baratheon in battle,” Harry finally explained, wearily. “It will be an easy fix… mostly… that will have a large ripple effect. Robert was not a perfect king but there were so many things he turned a blind eye to. So many things that created turmoil and war after he died. We do not know all the evils that were done before we landed on Westerosi soil but much was done that we could not prevent in time.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened and continued to widen as Harry spoke. “Are you the Stranger?”

Harry blinked and met his eyes before laughing. “Not quite. She thought I was… the first time we met. Now get some sleep. I’ll watch over you tonight.”

Rhaegar stared at the man and Harry stared back, raising an eyebrow before standing up. 

“We have faith in you,” Harry remarked quietly, dipping his head in a nod. “I aim to keep you alive until you take that uncomfortable looking seat that is the Iron Throne.”

Rhaegar blinked and Harry’s lips twitched up into a small, amused smile. 

“Now that was one of the first things to go,” Harry said, before stretching and moving into the main room of the tent, disappearing from view.

* * *

  
  
  


_The battle for the dawn was over. The bodies of Jaime and Brienne lay in the middle of the field, lightly dusted with snow, as Daenerys made her way through the land. She was alone now, with Drogon having died to protect her. Harry walked by her side, breathing heavily and gripping onto the elder wand with a white knuckled hold._

_The large bodies of Drogon and Rhaegal lay where they had fallen from the sky, Jorah and Jon’s bodies lay near where most of the White Walkers were. Daenerys hadn’t seen either of them die but Jon had killed the Night King in his last moment, killing the last Other and dying at the same time. She suspected that he wouldn’t be coming back a second time. Melisandre had died a month ago and her death had sounded the alarm to the entire North._

_Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down on the body of Arya Stark. Arya had fallen right before the Night King, the thin, tiny sword called Needle held in her hands. Nymeria had fallen beside her sister, a sword of ice impaled through her flank. The rest of Nymeria’s pack were either injured or dead, laying amongst the other dead horses on the field._

_Dany’s knees trembled and buckled before the carnage and Harry caught her, with his cold hands and wrapped her up in a tight hug. He had exhausted his magic enough that he probably didn’t have time to cast a warming charm though she could feel him curling into her more, borrowing some of her innate heat. She could barely hear his words, feeling the last remnants of his magic wrap around her and soothing her physical hurts and warming her._

_She had done so much crying over the past week. Dry sobs left her throat, the old aches and pains of grief for all of her family presenting themselves again. She was the last one, of her family, of her house, of the Valyrian dragonlords._

_Harry continued to whisper words into her ear, tickling her skin with his breath. Daenerys melted into his arms and wrapped her arms around him in return. He had done much to defeat the Night King, had been with Bran in his last moments, but he hadn’t been quick enough. His glowing patronus flowed into existence around them, the blue, eerie dragon stood over them and roared._

_Warmth and safety radiated from the magical creature but Daenerys just stared at the bodies of her found family. It felt like she had died with them. Her heart was still beating but she wondered if she was dead. Wondered if this was real._

_“Let’s go. Daenerys,” Harry whispered, rubbing circles on her back. “You’ve got blood in your hair, love.”_

_“It’s…” Daenerys trailed off, her voice hoarse. She wondered how it had gotten that way. “It’s not mine.”_

_“Oh. Ghost’s?”_

_Daenerys nodded and tightened her grip around Harry, as he shuffled around._

_“Alright. We won’t move then,” Harry spoke quietly, running his fingers through his own hair and coming away with blood._

_Daenerys sighed and leaned against him, feeling his fingers next move through her hair, scratching her scalp soothingly and removing any blood._

_It was silent for the next few moments, the only sound was the howling of the icy wind. The survivors of the battle wandered dazedly around and Daenerys spotted Lyanna Mormont standing at the edge of the field. They locked eyes and Lyanna nodded to her before walking away, to assess the losses._

_“You’re Queen now,” Harry murmured, shrugging when she looked at him dully._

_Daenerys blinked and swallowed. “Queen of nothing. We… suffered so many losses and Cersei… I have no energy left to go for that woman.”_

_Harry leaned against her, slipping his fingers into hers and squeezed. “What would you like to do then?”_

_Dany peered at him, feeling a few tears spill over onto her cheeks. She had done enough crying over the past few months and now… “I just want to rest.”_

_Harry hummed under his breath and for a few minutes, there was silence but for the howls of grief for the lost. “We could go back. I could save your brother.”_

_“What good could that do? He was lost,” Daenerys whispered, curling into Harry’s arm and almost burrowing into him when he slipped it around her shoulders. No one was watching them, too distracted by the dead and the winter. Cold began to seep through her dirty clothes and she shivered with it, pulling his cloak around her._

_“I… didn’t mean Viserys,” Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead as his words rocketed through her._

_Dany turned to stare at him, taking a deep breath as she did. “You mean…”_

_Those green eyes seemed to glow as she watched him and she vaguely remembered their first meeting. Harry nodded and curled a finger into her hair, playing with it idly._

_“Rhaegar. I could save Rhaegar’s life,” Harry offered, pulling her closer to share warmth._

_Daenerys’ eyes widened and she opened her mouth only to close it and then open it again. “I wasn’t… alive then.”_

_“You were born months after the fact. I know. We would meet again eventually.”_

_Dany froze and then turned to look at the bodies of Drogon, of Ghost and Viserion, and Rhaegal. Of Jon and Jorah, of the Starks and of Theon Greyjoy and his sister. Of the Martells._

_“Yes.”_

_Harry met her eyes then and then nodded slightly before leaning in. Dany met his lips slowly, warmth invading her at his touch and then she saw darkness._

* * *

  
  
  


Harry sat on a chair at the edge of the Targaryen camp, idly watching the river a mile ahead of him. Horses whinnied and screamed. Men screamed and yelled. He saw flashes of steel and iron, blood running deep and fast and then quiet. The banners almost seemed to freeze for a second before they blew back and forth in the breeze. He could feel the runes that he had placed on Rhaegar’s armor come alive, protecting the prince as best as he could without actually fighting in the battle. 

Harry let out a noise of consideration as he watched the sun continue to rise in the sky, shining its light over the trident. The waters shimmered in the sunlight and then there was a yell, a loud one, and horns sounded. Ghosts superimposed themselves over his vision, echoing of a battle that took place in Westerosi future… or in his past. Men and women fought together against the Others and failed, pushed back by hundreds, if not thousands, of the dead.

Horses galloped back across the Trident as he watched and he half had trouble realizing that they were real and in the now. He stood up, his heart beating fast, as he squinted, narrowing his eyes to see which banner… 

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen rode his horse ahead of his men, followed by Ser Jonothor Darry and Ser Lewyn Martell. The surviving Dornishmen and Targaryen loyalists rode behind him, quiet but victorious. The injured, he presumed, rode behind them. 

Harry leaned against the pole of a banner next to him as he watched the men canter into camp, throwing off their helmets and armor to celebrate. Shouts of victory filled the camp as Rhaegar rode right up to him, pulling his horse to a stop at the last moment. Harry peered up into the prince’s eyes, soon to be the king’s, and dipped his head in a nod.

“I presume Robert Baratheon is dead,” Harry started quietly, raising his voice just a little bit to be heard over the sounds of celebration.

“Single combat,” Rhaegar remarked, dismounting from his war horse. Jonothor dismounted as well and flanked the prince, staring at Harry in slight suspicion. Harry had idly spelled the armor of the kingsguard as well, stealing into their tents unseen during the night before. “His war hammer bounced off of my shield and armor multiple times.”

“As well as it should have. I do good work, your Grace,” Harry answered the unasked question and turned around. “We have things to discuss, Prince Rhaegar. Come talk when you’re done cleaning up.”

“Cleaning up?”

“The rebels will need to be brought to task,” Harry said, gesturing to the banners that flew on the other side of the river. “I would suggest taking one of their lords as your Hand. I’d recommend Lord Arryn perhaps. Gotta give them something for all their troubles and losses. Perhaps a few betrothals too. And… I would suggest apologizing on your father’s behalf.”

“My father…”

“That is one of the things we need to discuss,” Harry interrupted, heading right for Rhaegar’s tent. “Come and find me when you’re ready. I’ll be in your tent.”

Rhaegar watched as the man strode through the throngs of celebrating men, like he was one of them. Like Harry had not just saved his life multiple times in the fight, even if the man hadn’t been there.

  
  


* * *

It was dark by the time Rhaegar saw Harry again, after debating and arguing and talking with Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Hoster Tully and the several minor northmen and riverlords and stormlords that had fought for Robert. Lord Stark had insisted on traveling to fetch his sister, had made it very clear that if Rhaegar had put Lyanna in danger… that he would not make a very leal bannermen. 

As Robert Baratheon was dead, his younger brother, Stannis would become Lord of Storm’s End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Rhaegar had already sent out a raven to Lord Tyrell, to let him know of Robert’s death. He sighed and watched as Ser Lewyn Martell readied the surviving Dornishmen to ride home and turned to walk into his tent.

His heart clenched in his chest at the thought of the future, of reuniting with Elia and Lyanna. And his children. Rhaenys and tiny little Aegon. 

“I hope you’re not too tired,” Harry began, meeting him as he walked to strip off his armor. 

“I am not. You know… the future,” Rhaegar asked, unsure of his footing with the man.

“I come from the future,” Harry offered, shrugging and sitting down before the table at the center of the room. Rhaegar had held his council here the night before, with his men and knights. And now… “Your father will not easily give up the throne.”

“I know.”

Harry shook his head slowly. “I do not mean that so you can take it for granted. Do you know that there are still mass amounts of wildfire in the capital? That your father is mad and insane? There are reasons why people call your father the Mad King and still did so when I arrived in Westeros many years after Robert rebelled and gained the throne. People did not trust my wife for that exact reason and yet she gave them no reason to do so.”

“Your wife… Is she… You speak as if she is…” Rhaegar trailed off, tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean by your words?”

“In the future… King Aerys tried to light the capital on fire. He tried to kill half a million people.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened and his stomach roiled at the thought. But yet… His father had murdered people even before Robert rebelled. He had ordered people to die by fire and no one had spoken a word against him. The deaths of Brandon and Rickard Stark were just the embers that truly sparked the rebellion. And… his own actions in traveling with Lyanna.

“Why…” Rhaegar paused. “Why did my father…”

“Robert won,” Harry explained warily, tracing his fingers over the scrolls on the table as Rhaegar sat down across from him. “Robert won and your father didn’t want to give up the capital. He didn’t want to give up his power, his throne, and he won’t want to give it up to you.”

“I will have to force him, won’t I?”

Harry nodded and stayed quiet, meeting his eyes. “You could put him on Dragonstone and keep him there. He’s mad though and he has supporters.”

“What… I can’t kill him. I don’t want to kill my own father.”

“By this time… he has raped your mother several times over,” Harry remarked, brushing some hair away from his face. Rhaegar felt all the blood drain from his face at the words, as memories flashed through his mind of his mother walking out of Aerys’ room with bruises and shrugging them off. “He has killed several people and is half the cause for this rebellion.”

“What happened to him in… your… time?” Rhaegar finally asked faintly, his stomach bucking and roiling like a rough sea. His mother... 

“He was killed. He was killed right after he gave the order to light the city on fire.”

Rhaegar’s stomach pitched up and he turned around, the last meal he had coming back up. Arms held him up and held his long hair back, smoothing down his back. He shuddered and retched again, shaking in place for several minutes. Harry’s cool hands felt like a blessing on his skin and eventually Rhaegar stood back up, wiping his face of any sick and looking at the man.

“He didn’t… The order didn’t go through, surely?”

“Someone killed him and the pyromancers. King’s Landing stayed standing.”

Harry handed over a mug and Rhaegar took a sip of the liquid without hesitation, sighing in relief at the cool water.

“You could poison him,” Harry said, his nose wrinkling at the thought. “Or I could just go… kill him. There’d be no mark left on him if I do it.”

Rhaegar paled even more and clutched onto the mug.

“Regardless… your father needs to die. Onto other delightful things. Lyanna Stark. She’s pregnant. When you go to get her, bring your maester with you and these.”

Harry reached into a pocket in his cloak or tunic and handed over a few vials. Rhaegar took them and looked them over, seeing a wolf head on two of them and a sun on the third. They were full of liquid, shimmery and clean. “Give her these. They’ll help her get through labor alive and well. Give the one with the dragon on it to Rhaella. She’ll need help with the labor as well though it’s not like what happened in my time will happen now. Her family isn’t lost and exiled. The one with the sun on it is for Princess Elia. She probably hasn’t yet fully recovered from--”

“How do you know about Lyanna?”

“I know… knew her child. Lyanna died in childbirth,” Harry explained, shrugging in thought. “And… you need to apologize to your wife.”

“She liked Lyanna,” Rhaegar finally said faintly. “They met during the tourney.”

Harry blinked. “Ah. Well… Still… Give her the vial with a sun on it. It’ll help her recover from Aegon’s birth.”

“Is her child--”

Harry rolled his eyes and reached out to flick him on the forehead. Rhaegar blinked and froze, his eyes going wide. Harry snorted quietly at his expression and stepped back.

“Not the point here, Rhaegar. Forget about any prophecy,” Harry argued, his eyes narrowing. “Let’s see… we covered Robert, Lyanna, Elia… Do you want me to go… deal with your father?”

Rhaegar stiffened even more and then sighed. He looked out at the north, as if he was looking through the tent walls to the men outside them, and then nodded slightly. “Go.”

“I won’t see you again after I leave. Be safe alright?” Harry said, taking a step towards the tent door and poking his head out. He turned back to Rhaegar, who stared at him intently with his indigo eyes. “Or… I suppose you will see me. Just not anytime soon.”

“Thank you. I do not even know who you really are or who your queen is. What are you called as a king?”

“Oh, I’m not king on the throne,” Harry remarked, his lips curling into a wistful, amused grin. “My wife ruled in her own name.”

Rhaegar watched as Harry walked through and out of the tent before calling to his kingsguard.

* * *

When Harry arrived in King’s Landing, it was to disarray. The sun had fallen past the horizon, making the only sources of light as lanterns and torches. The night sky was dark and the stars weren’t even sparking brightly. No one knew who had won the battle at the trident and he aimed to keep it that way while he was here. The gates were closed and barricaded, the men exchanging nervous glances between themselves as Harry passed them by. He kept to the side streets and alleys as he walked, taking in the city that had been utterly destroyed by wights and the dead many years in the future… or he supposed… in what was now the past. 

It had gotten bad in the last week that they had lived, with having to ward every single camp every night and make sure no one was sick. Harry had come to really appreciate vaccines, after having witnessed the utter chaos that one sick person could unleash in the cold of an ongoing winter and war. Bodies had been left on the wayside, after having died of dysentery or disease that could be perfectly stopped by cleaning everything or having clean water. 

People stayed in their homes and closed their doors as he passed, giving him a suspicious look. He kept his hood on, wanting to stay unnoticed for the time being, and finally made it to the Red Keep. He easily passed over the gate, using a notice-me-not charm on himself instead of the cloak, and peered at the keep. It was tall, definitely as tall as Hogwarts, and not well guarded. At least not well guarded by men of the kingsguard. Harry vaguely remembered Jaime saying something about every other knight of the kingsguard being out of the city. 

He knew Ser Barristan had been with Rhaegar and had gotten injured in the battle but he didn’t know where the others were, other than Jaime himself.

He quietly nudged his way into the keep, uncloaking himself as he walked and peered up at the walls that held the skulls of past dragons. Harry flinched at a few, remembering seeing the skull of Viserion or Rhaegal, his eyes widening at the sight of Balerion’s skull. Drogon hadn’t even been a fifth of Balerion’s size when he had died.

His stomach roiled at the memories and his heart clenched in his chest as Dany’s scream echoed through him. 

A different kind of shout drew him out of his memories as he approached the Iron Throne and King Aerys Targaryen, the Second. The king looked… just as mad as he expected and a lot more. Aerys’ beard and hair were both matted with blood and dirt, his clothing was worn and ripped. His fingernails were several inches long, having grown perhaps seven or eight inches past what was presentable or hygienic. From what bare skin was visible, Harry could see multiple cuts, as if the throne itself was disapproving of the occupant. In truth it was just the fact that the throne was made out of swords. Harry’s nose wrinkled at the sight and grinned a little at the memory of Drogon accidentally burning it up in their future or past.

Blood splattered his clothes, his face, and his eyes… his violet eyes were wild, almost feral, as he spotted Harry. 

Harry took in the sight of him and Ser Jaime Lannister, who stood behind the king, and whispered two words. The sickly green light that he had seen once or twice in his world and multiple times in this one sped right at the king in silence, hitting him square in the face. Aerys Targaryen froze and then keeled over, sliding onto one of the swords of the throne. 

Jaime blinked and stared, freezing for a second, before taking a step towards the king. Harry flinched as he saw Jaime sway a little bit, seeing the utter exhaustion and slight fear in the man’s eyes. 

“The king…” Jaime trailed off faintly, his eyes widening so much that Harry thought they would fall out of his head. “You…”

“Jaime, easy,” Harry whispered, taking a step towards the man. 

There was a bandage over Jaime’s left hand that stunk of burned flesh and Harry’s chest clenched at the thought. For a second, Harry saw Jaime’s future/past prosthetic hand, closed his eyes and reopened them. 

“What did you do?” Jaime questioned, his eyes still wide.

“I saved you having to kill him yourself,” Harry offered quietly, uncurling his shoulders and slouching a little bit. The man before him was unsteady on his feet, was pale and tired and… wasn’t quite there. Jaime took a step towards him, swayed dangerously and fell. Harry closed the distance between them and caught him, easing him down to the stone floor. “Oh, Jaime. I didn’t… You told us of this time and I didn’t…”

Jaime blinked and stared up at him, his eyes wild, before passing out, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

“I didn’t know it’d be this bad,” Harry remarked, tracing his hand over Jaime’s armor and white cloak. He sighed and cautiously stood up, hearing the loud laughter of a child in the halls in Maegor’s holdfast. “Come on. To bed with you.”

He waved a hand at Jaime’s unconscious body and watched as the man floated up to rest on the floor. “What to do… I don’t want you blamed for this.”

Harry stared down at Jaime and then looked over at the body of Aerys, running a hand through his hair.He was too busy thinking about his new predicament when a door opened to the left and a soft gasp echoed throughout the quiet throne room.

“What is going on here?”

He turned around to see Princess Elia Martell walking towards him, her eyes wide.

Elia came to stand next to him and ran over to Jaime’s side, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Aerys’ body. “What happened?”

“I killed the king,” Harry remarked idly, sighing at the thought. “Her father.”

Elia stared at him. “Who… are you?”

“A friend. Just call me a friend. I didn’t want… In the future, Rhaegar dies at the trident,” Harry finished, shrugging. “Rhaegar dies. Robert wins and Aerys tries to light the whole city on fire.”

Elia paled and swallowed. “How… Rhaegar is dead?”

“Not now. He won. I just… don’t want Jaime blamed for the king’s death,” Harry said, gesturing to the lone kingsguard knight. He also didn’t want Jaime executed for the king’s death or Brienne would be so unhappy with him and he was honestly a little bit scared of her. Brienne was a knight and very fierce when protecting her allies. And Brienne was just three years old right now. “Is there… We could blame it on food.”

Elia continued to stare at him and then sighed loudly. “I will say he choked on our dinner. Bring him to the dining hall. I will make sure of it and wake Jaime up. He’ll need to be there. Rhaegar really is alive?”

“I just came from the Trident. Don’t worry.”

  
  


* * *

He got Aerys sitting down in his chair, made sure Jaime was in place, and then looked to Elia. “If Maester Pycelle wants to open the gate to anyone but Rhaegar, don’t let him. Or you know what… I’ll be right back.”

Elia blinked but nodded, staring at the king’s dead body as she heard Harry step out. She was grateful that Rhaenys and Aegon were already in bed and asleep, that Ashara was back in Starfall and safe. She wondered where Lyanna was, how Rhaegar was doing.

Her heart was beating like a horse galloped as she stared at Aerys’ body, looking between him and Ser Jaime. If Harry was to be believed, Rhaegar was alive and well and had won. And with the death of his father, Rhaegar was now king and she was queen. She sighed again and sat down in her chair, startling as plates began to move around on the table without anyone holding them.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Harry stepped into the big room, took a look around and then focused on her. “You’re eating dinner and the king choked on a chicken bone. That’s what happened, alright? Jaime couldn’t have helped or done anything. And if Rhaegar asks, don’t tell him that I killed Pycelle too though I suspect he’ll figure it out.”

“You killed Pycelle?” Elia echoed and then shook her head. “I do not want to know how.”

“He was Tywin’s man,” Harry explained idly, gesturing to the king. “Okay. In a few minutes, Jaime will wake up. You need to alert the guard and Queen Rhaella. I doubt however that Rhaella will… care about her brother-husband dying.”

“He raped her,” Elia murmured, her stomach roiling. “He raped her and the guards did nothing.”

Harry dipped his head in a nod and didn’t comment for a few minutes, his face pale and green eyes narrowed. “My wife didn’t much care for domestic violence. She outlawed it in her camp. My world thought the same. It’s not alright for a husband to rape his wife or a wife to assault her husband. You’re the soon to be queen. You could call attention to this issue.”

“Your wife? Domestic… violence?”

“Marital rape. Will you be alright here? I’m gonna go sleep for… 16 years.”

Elia blinked and peered up at him, at the man who had flipped their world upside down.

Harry’s lips curled up in a faint grin at her confused look. “I’ll… We’ll explain later.”

“We?”

“My wife and I. Will you be alright? Rhaegar knows what to do for now. I gave him a few pointers.”

Elia stared at him and Harry let out a quiet laugh. 

“It was nice to meet you, your Grace,” Harry finally said, smiling wider as he turned to look towards Maegor’s holdfast, to where the queen and Viserys were. “From what I gather, Oberyn spoke very highly of you.”

Elia opened her mouth to reply only to stare at the spot where Harry had once been, a second ago.

* * *

Sixteen years and one month later found Princess Daenerys Targaryen walking quietly through the godswood, a soft violet dress curling about her body. Her brother was off on a hunt with some nobles of the court, though Viserys didn’t do any of the killing. Rhaegar was sitting the throne, hearing most of the commoners and smallfolk as they spoke of their problems. 

Her sixteenth nameday had just come and gone and her upcoming betrothal was on the horizon. Rhaenys had tried to talk to her, telling her that Robb Stark was supposed to be very kind, that being wed wasn’t all that bad. Given that Rhaenys had already wed Willas Tyrell, Dany was inclined to believe her but… she… still was nervous. It didn’t help that her other nephew, Aemon, was of Stark heritage too. He had spent most of his years at Winterfell, squiring for Lord Stark, and now…

Now he would be coming back, with the wedding party, to be with her for the wedding. 

Aegon hadn’t come back from the stormlands yet, having squired for Lord Baratheon, and last Dany had heard from him, he had gone to Braavos. The Iron Bank had asked for them to send someone to visit the city though Dany didn’t quite know the reason why.

“Your Grace?”

She jumped a little at the sight of Ser Barristan and then shivered slightly, as the man’s eyes softened. “What is it?”

“Your brother would like you to attend him,” Barristan remarked quietly, gesturing to the keep. 

“Rhaegar needs something?”

Barristan’s eyes softened as he nodded and she smiled a little. Her older brother was a quiet one and she had often caught him with his nose in a book, reading through dusty old scrolls in the maester’s library. Though his morning exercises with his guards certainly made her heart beat very fast at the sight, knowing that there was something that he trained for. Knowing that he had won the battle of the Trident 16 years ago, even before she had been born, and that they had almost…

“I’m coming,” Daenerys offered, smiling faintly and pushing some hair back from her face. She turned around and headed back towards the keep, hearing Barristan fall into line behind her. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, princess,” ser Barristan remarked as they walked back through the godswood. “I have heard many good things about the heir to Winterfell. He is not like…”

Dany turned to look at ser Barristan and blinked once. “He is not like my father.”

Barristan paled and then dipped his head in a nod. “Yes. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

“My brother has told me much about our father,” Dany murmured, as they walked through the courtyard of the keep. She turned to look out at the street beyond the gate and walls, picturing the commoners out at their vending tables, the blacksmiths and the bakers. She pictured the few orphans she had made friends with over the years and the several girls that had come to King’s Landing to be companions to her. Princess Arianne was one and she was due to return to King’s Landing in a month.

Shireen Baratheon was another and one whom Dany was very protective of, seeing the looks that the girl received on the streets of the city. It wasn’t Shireen’s fault that she had gotten greyscale when she had been younger and no one had said Shireen was contagious. Even if she had been, Dany still would have played with her. Shireen’s mother was not to her liking but Rhaegar had said to just ignore Cersei. 

Margaery too had been a good friend to her until she had started to talk of wedding Aegon and becoming the next queen. Surely Dany’s brother and goodsisters would be around for a lot longer. She didn’t want to lose Rhaegar, Elia or Lyanna or her own mother. She knew she would be going north after the wedding, to go learn what it would be like to be Lady of Winterfell with Robb, but she would definitely still write her mother and older brother.

Viserys… might complain that she was too quiet, too sentimental, but she thought he was too arrogant, too brash. Viserys hadn’t wed yet either, had shrugged off Rhaegar’s attempts to get him to marry.

“Princess?”

“I know he wasn’t a good man,” Dany said as they arrived at the door to the throne room. The two guards at the door pushed it open for her and she stepped in, peering out over the crowd of people waiting in line to talk with her brother. She hesitated in the doorway before taking the first step in and headed towards the dais, where she could see the iron throne and her brother sitting on it.

Ser Barristan nudged people out of the way and they bowed to her as they noticed her. Dany met their eyes, something in her stomach flipping up and down at the way they looked at her. And then she caught those bright green eyes in the crowd and memories filled her mind. Spots filled her vision and a tinkling of a bell was the last thing she heard before darkness overcame her. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Harry caught Dany just as she fell, curling his arms loosely around her body. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he scooped her up, peering down at her face as all hell came crashing down around them. His own world narrowed down to the woman in his arms, watching as her eyes fluttered beneath her eyelids, as memories flashed through her mind.

By the time noises filtered back through to him, the great hall around him had gone silent and empty of any nobles or commoners. King Rhaegar Targaryen stood right in front of him, his indigo eyes narrowed and his hand on the sword at his hip. The skulls of the dragons were still on the walls and the great hall was full of banners that held the three headed dragon of House Targaryen. There was a tapestry that held the entire history of the house of dragons, starting with Aegon the Conqueror and ending with the current children.

Barristan Selmy, Jaime Lannister, Jonothor Darry, Gerold Hightower, Arthur Dayne, Lewyn Martell and Oswell Whent stood around them, their white cloaks curled around their shoulders. Only Jaime seemed to recognize him, his bright green eyes narrowing. Though Jaime looked vastly different than the one in his memories. He looked… far less unhappy than he had when he had been serving Aerys but perhaps there was still a shade of discontent in his eyes and Harry filed that away for later.

Rhaegar had looked a king 16 years ago and this time he really was a king, a light, thin circlet on his head framing his silver hair. He looked older certainly, with a slight hint of facial hair darkening his skin. His indigo eyes were narrowed as he studied Harry, easily recognizing him, and then focusing on his sister. “Harry.”

“Your Grace.”

“What is going on?” Rhaegar questioned, his voice low, a hint of steel running underneath as well. 

Harry smiled faintly, wondering if the past 16 years had gone the same as they had when Robert had won. He assumed Balon Greyjoy had still rebelled five years after Robert had, assumed that Balon had lost just as easily but he wondered… He had seen Stannis Baratheon in the crowd, had heard that he had become Master of Ships not too long after Rhaegar had taken office.

Perhaps Aerys’ Master of Ships had been too loyal to his king though at the moment, Harry didn’t particularly care. Dany shivered in his arms and he subtly wrapped his cloak around her.

“Nothing much. I see you’re alive and well,” Harry offered, dipping his head in a nod. “I was just in time to catch your sister. Is there some bed I can drop her in?”

“Yes. Follow me and then we will talk. I would like to know why you have come here now.”

Harry nodded idly, situated Dany more carefully in his arms, and followed the king past the throne and out through the door. All seven of the kingsguard surrounded them, probably having been called in from their positions throughout the keep. They walked through and into Maegor’s holdfast, where the royal family held their quarters, and stopped at a door along the way. 

“You can set her in there,” Rhaegar remarked, gesturing to the door and pushing it open. “Be careful with her, please.”

“Like I wasn’t careful with you?” Harry idly returned, winking at him and walking into Dany’s room in the keep. 

Rhaegar blinked, his cheeks reddening slightly before he straightened, and Harry laughed quietly under his breath, as he looked around at the various things that Dany had accumulated over the past 16 years. It was a rather sparse bedroom/quarters, reminding him of her rooms in Meereen in the Great Pyramid.

Daenerys whimpered slightly in his arms and he returned to the present, walking over to her bed and laying her gently down onto it. “Dany…”

He could feel Rhaegar staring at them from the hall and made a quick decision, whispering a few words under his breath. The door slammed behind them and shimmered almost immediately with magic that barred it shut. Shouts rang through the hall beyond the door and Harry turned his attention to the woman on the bed. 

  
  


* * *

Daenerys stretched out on the bed, the soft bed, her bed, and opened her eyes slowly. Harry peered back at her and she smiled, her heart beating wildly in her chest, and sat up. “Harry…”

“Yeah?”

Dany grinned and slowly pushed him down onto the bed beside her, climbing on top of him easily. She met his familiar green eyes and leaned down, bracketing him with her arms, slipping her fingers into his, and met his lips with her own. Harry sighed beneath her and she melted into him, feeling his arms wrap around her and hold.

It felt like coming home as their tongues brushed against each other, as Harry leaned his forehead against her’s. She took a breath, even as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, as louder shouts rang throughout the hall behind the door. 

“Rhaegar is behind that door, isn’t he? You did it,” Dany whispered, closing her eyes at the thought, at the memories that slipped through her mind. Of growing up with her mother. Of growing up knowing her older brother. Of King Rhaegar Targaryen and his two queens, Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark. Of her niece and two nephews. Rhaenys, Aegon and Aemon. A strangled gasp left her throat at the new reality, at being able to call her mother to her or walking with Rhaegar in the evenings, just the two of them. “Harry…”

Harry smiled and just held her tighter. Dany leaned into him, seeing the braid she had put into his hair a year ago. The bell that she had braided into it when he had killed Euron Greyjoy. 

“I love you, dragon queen,” Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too, witch boy,” Daenerys offered, grinning as Harry rolled his eyes.

“I told you not to call me that,” Harry muttered, poking her in the shoulder.

Dany rolled her eyes at the familiar argument, seeing the love in those green eyes. “We need to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to see your brother? Your mother?”

Daenerys sat up, still straddling Harry’s waist, and turned to the door behind them. She could hear the shouts of her brother, of the knights who were trying to get in, and shook her head. “To borrow one of your phrases…”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“We have shit to do,” Dany whispered, grinning at the ridiculousness of the words.

Harry laughed loudly, happily and pulled her into another hug, tight and warm. She closed her eyes as his power wove around the both of them and then she felt the pull of his traveling power and darkness surrounded her with a quiet crack.


End file.
